


Breathe in, breathe out

by elletromil



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-26
Updated: 2015-09-26
Packaged: 2018-04-23 12:53:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4877584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elletromil/pseuds/elletromil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wherein Eggsy comes home from a rough mission, has a panic attack and Harry cuddles with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breathe in, breathe out

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this emergency prompt today to cheer up some Nonny on tumblr based on this "How about cuddly Hartwin, cuddles, big spoon small spoon, hugs, kisses whatever in the tactility department, fluff but still in character fluff post a very triggering mission Eggsy comes back from, Harry comforting Eggsy with praises, endearments, hugs... Fluff." and thought I would share with people on AO3.
> 
> Bear in mind please that I've never had any panic attack myself and so it's probably not even close to the real deal nor how you should deal with them.
> 
> It's not beta'd so any mistakes you find in it are my own.

The flight home takes no time at all but also a small eternity. The debrief is a blur and he is not sure if Merlin’s dismissed him because he’s satisfied with the information he got or if he’s given up on Eggsy entirely for the day.

Once he’s in the house, Eggsy could not say if he walked, let himself be driven over by one of the chauffeur or if he drove himself. He distantly hopes it’s not the latter because, even if he obviously made it in one piece, it would still have been endangering not only to himself but to others.

He leans down to unlace his Oxfords when suddenly it’s all too much, he feels like he’s drowning and he needs to sit on the floor to try and catch his breath again. It’s harder than it should be, there seems to be no oxygen getting into his lungs and he cannot concentrate on his breathing, not when he’s lost somewhere under the guilt and sadness and panic and it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it _hurts_.

A warm hand settles on top of his shoulder, there’s a reassuring presence at his back, a soothing voice in his ear and he knows it’s saying something important but he just _cannot concentrate_.

The hand slips away and before he can whimper at its loss, whoever it is behind him is sliding on the floor, two arms wrapping around his chest in a firm hold, legs enclosing him. It should feel oppressive and stifling and too much, but instead it’s perfect and he melts into the embrace, trying to breath in time with the slow rise and fall of the chest behind his back.

It’s a long time, what feels like hours but is probably only minutes, before Eggsy surfaces again, finally hears what Harry has been saying all this time, a soft litany of _dear boy_ , _you’re safe_ , _i love you_ , _i’m proud of you_ , and _you did all you could_ ’s that brings tears to his eyes because he doesn’t feel like he did, he should have done more somehow.

He must have made a sound of protest or maybe Harry simply knows him too well by now, because the other man leaves a light butterfly kiss right under his ear and the arms around him tighten for a minute, hands finding his to link their fingers together.

“Whatever you’re thinking right now Eggsy, you’re wrong. There will always be things outside of our control. It might take a long time for you to see it, but I refuse to let you beat yourself down for it in the meantime.” It’s whispered in his neck, lips brushing against his skin, the tone gentle but brooking no arguments.

Still, he wants to disagree, somehow he should have _known_ , he should have done _more_ , but he’s exhausted and a fight with Harry is the last thing he wants. Anyway he has the feeling his lover will come out the winner of that particular argument. He’s annoying like that.

“Now darling, do you want something to eat or would you rather we go to bed straight away?”

Eggsy takes a moment, trying to figure out if he’s hungry in the least, but it is hard to think of anything but the motion of Harry’s thumb slowly rubbing circles against the inside of his wrist.

“I don’t think I’m hungry,” he answers at last and he feels Harry nodding against him, before the man disentangles himself despite Eggsy’s grunts of protest.

Eggsy knows staying on the cold floor like that isn’t good for any of them, even more so for Harry’s older joints, but he also doesn’t want to get up. Getting up means standing on his own legs and it’s a feat that seems unrealisable. That he’ll have to climb up the stairs to get to the bedroom after that is simply unthinkable.

Before he can attempt standing up though, Harry crouches down again and reposition him until he can lift him in his arm safely without injuring either of them.

“Wha- No Harry, put me down!” He demands and he would try to wiggle out of the hold, but he fear he would just end up hurting Harry. “I can walk!”

“I know you can sweetheart. And so can I carry you. Look, we’re already on the stairs.”

If he didn’t think it would result in them falling and breaking something, he would punch Harry. Eggsy forgets sometimes that his lover is much more of an unapologetic little shit than he could ever be himself.

Besides, even if he’s too proud to admit it out loud, it’s kind of nice to be carried like this, not like he’s fragile, but like he’s something precious.

It’s not long before he’s lowered onto the bed and Eggsy finally gets his first good look at Harry, the man simply dressed in dark trouser and a soft cardigan, an apron still tied over his clothes. He suddenly realises that even if he’s not hungry, it doesn’t mean Harry isn’t and it’s not because he doesn’t want to move away from the mattress ever again that his lover doesn’t have other matters to attend.

“Shite, Harry, you don’t need to stay, I’ll be okay, just need some sleep.” It’s the truth and a lie at the same time. He’ll be okay yes, but it’d be far better with Harry wrapped around him like a touch-starved octopus.

“I might not need to, but if you think I’m leaving you alone right now, you’re dumber than you look dear boy.”

Eggsy makes an indignant sound at the insult, but Harry shuts him up with a quick peck on his lips and starts undressing him, mindless of Eggsy’s hands trying to stop him.

“I can do it myself you know,” he pouts because he doesn’t like feeling like he’s being treated like a kid.

“And you can refer yourself to my previous comment,” he’s smirking and Eggsy would push him away, but that’s exactly when he notices the concerns in Harry’s eyes, concerns the man is obviously trying very hard to hide from him, probably uncertain as to how it will be perceived.

He stops hindering Harry after that. The fact Eggsy is feeling like the worst shite on the surface of the Earth right now is precisely the reason why Harry shouldn’t be worried about him. And since telling him not to worry will probably not work, Eggsy will just have to let Harry do as he pleases.

Soon, he’s strips down to his pants and after ruffling through a drawer for two old shirts, one he throws at Eggsy, Harry undress himself so that he is only in pants and a shirt too.

Eggsy smiles when he realises Harry has thrown him one of his old band shirt, the logo long faded away. Then he looks over at Harry and cannot stop the small chuckle when he sees the man is wearing one of his own. It’s one of his overly baggy shirt he’s never gotten around to throw away, so it’s not too tight around the man’s shoulders, but anyone seeing him in it would think Harry Hart has been abducted by aliens and replaced by a pod person.

A dark look is sent his way when he chuckles, as if daring him to say something, but he shakes his head. He understand the comfort of wearing one’s lover’s clothing more than anyone else and he won’t ridicule the man for feeling the same.

Harry finally gets into bed with him and, after a bit of repositioning, they’re lying on their sides, Eggsy’s back to Harry’s chest, legs intertwined, the man’s arms loosely wrapped around him.

This time it’s Eggsy who seeks out his hands with his own, gripping the one he finds tightly as if suddenly afraid Harry will disappear. Harry’s other hand finds its way underneath his shirt and comes to rest directly above his heart. It’s only now, with the warm weight of his lover’s hand on top of it, that Eggsy realises how fast it’s still beating, as if his panic has still not settled.

It is not really surprising, if he takes the time to think about it, the last hours might have been somewhat calm, but he cannot say as much for the week prior. His breath catch in his chest again at the reminder of what he just went through but before he can linger on the memories, Harry starts nuzzling against his hair before peppering kisses along the skin of his neck and shoulders at a slow pace.

Eggsy breathes in and breathes out in time with the kisses.

 _A kiss_ , he breathes in.

 _The lips leaves his skin_ , he breathes out.

 _A kiss_ -

The rhythm is slowly lulling him to sleep and he doesn’t fight it.

However, before he surrenders to Morpheus’ call, he bring up the hand he’s still gripping like a lifeline to his mouth, pressing his lips to the knuckles in gratitude.

“I love you,” he whispers because he needs to say it.

“I love you too, my dear boy,” comes the quiet replies, warm breath against his ear. “Now sleep, I’ll be there when you wake.”

And sleep he does, unworried about nightmares. Harry’s presence might not be enough to stop them from coming, but Eggsy finds the prospect of waking up for more intensive cuddles with his lover not so bad.


End file.
